


Stolen

by Amymel86



Series: Jonsa Drabblefest May 2020 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Modern AU, jonsa drabblefest, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24127408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: She leans a slender shoulder on his apartment door frame, teeth sinking into her lip while she waits for his answer. Jon would gladly let his neighbour ‘steal’ anything she likes. He’s in danger of her stealing a few beats from his heart.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsa Drabblefest May 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738762
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	Stolen

“Can I steal Ghost from you again?”

She leans a slender shoulder on his apartment door frame, teeth sinking into her lip while she waits for his answer. Jon would gladly let his neighbour ‘steal’ anything she likes. He’s in danger of her stealing a few beats from his heart.

“Sure,” he says - adds in a shrug for good measure. “I think he prefers spending time with you anyway. Always comes back smelling nice.” _Did he mean to say that?_ His damned cheeks are burning now. He glances down at his socked toes wiggling against the carpet.

Sansa’s laugh is light. “That’s probably the detergent I use on my sheets and the fact that he likes to snuggle up to me in bed.”

It’s a comfort thing, she’d told him once. Cannot ever seem to sleep alone. Really struggled since that shit-stain of a boyfriend left ( _thank the Gods_ ).

Jon rocks back on his feet and shoves his hands in his jean pockets. “Well, he’s a lucky boy then.”

_Ah, fuck. Should he have said that?_

There’s something to the look she gives him – like she’s weighing him up – as though he’s sitting differently in her mind now and she needs to be sure she likes him there. Her little pink tongue rolls out to wet her lips. The silence is damn near killing him.

“C’mon Ghostie,” Sansa finally says and Jon feels like he can breathe again. She pats her thigh to beckon his dog to follow her to next door, leaving him with a look thrown over her shoulder that Jon’s sure he’ll spend the rest of the night mentally analysing.


End file.
